More than loneliness and whiskey
by LadyPalma
Summary: Set after S6 CS. Two glasses of wine during the reception of a certain wedding and a talk are enough to start an unlike friendship - and eventually something more. Rosamund/Clarkson just because they needed a happy ending too.
1. Chapter 1

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **February 1926**

 **1.**

It was something rather odd to see someone gloomy at a wedding, but yet only Rosamund seemed to notice. Maybe because she was inwardly gloomy too or maybe because, never actually being the one at the centre of attention, she had developed a fine sense of observation.

"Are you not fond of weddings, doctor?" she asked, deciding to approach the lonely – and only vaguely familiar – figure standing outside the Church. "You are Doctor Clarkson, aren't you?"

He looked up immediately and for a moment surprise took over sadness. "My lady. I can say I am no particularly fond of this one"

"Oh, indeed. You too were competing for Mrs Crawley – well, _Lady Merton_ now, if I remember correctly…"

She did and she knew that. According to her, noticing things and collecting rumors went absolutely together.

He smiled weakly and shook his head in the meanwhile. "It is not merely a matter of hurt pride, actually. I was in love with her."

 **2.**

It was only for respect to the Granthams and not to foment some possible rumors, that Richard decided to join the reception at the Abbey. It should have taken place at Merton's place but the suddenness of the decision and the current still tensed situation with the rest of the Greys led to do everything in Downton; he still couldn't say if he felt relieved or even more hurt by that. He did not take much part to the celebration anyway and, remaining in one corner on his own, he just kept checking his pocket watch waiting for an appropriate time to leave unnoticed. Among all those nobles, he could not help but feel uncomfortable as if, despite his marginality, everyone was looking at him. What he failed to notice though, was that someone was actually watching him with more curiosity than the lecit.

However, it was only an half hour into the reception, that Rosamund finally decided to approach him. She did it silently and carrying with her a glass full of wine and the offer of company. He didn't know if it was for the wine or for the company, but he found himself accepting them both, not probably full aware that it was a free ticket for a potentially dangerous conversation.

"It's a long story…" he said with a sigh, when he realized too late the trap.

But she shrugged slightly and just casted an unfriendly glance to her mother sitting on the other side of the room.

"Well, I have all the time to hear it"

It was clear that the both of them could use a sort of distraction in that moment and so the compromise was done.

He started talking, hesitantly a bit, but soon the wine untied his tongue and he started to like the idea of having a confidant, despite how unexpected and maybe improper that was. He told her everything, he showed her his heart completely and, as he did that, he showed it for the first time to himself too. He talked, unusually a lot, and she listened carefully with not too invadent interruptions. Curiosity was slowly turning into genuine interest, while a hint of envy started to be sprinkled on top.

She did want someone to love her like that man had loved – and certainly was _still_ loving in her opinion – Isobel _Grey_.

She did want to love someone with that intensity – even if it was an unrequited love and it would have teared her apart.

"…She didn't give me the chance to propose, you see. She must have thought I was asking her just out of loneliness, which it was only partly true…"

" _I_ would have said yes, anyway" she interjected and now she was the one to look gloomy.

Evidently, the wine was having a little effect on her tongue as well. He fell silent and gave her an inquiring look, which she didn't hesitate much to reply to, remembering out loud her not so amusing adventure with Lord Hepworth.

Somehow it became her turn to talk and, somehow, he forgot to check his pocket watch.

 **3.**

"Doctor Clarkson!" she exclaimed with a suddenly cheerful smile, as she started to cross the street to approach him.

In the meanwhile, he stopped abruptly and equally pleased by that unexpected meeting, smiled back and tilted his hat in greeting. "Lady Rosamund… I mean, Lady Painswick"

"No, don't worry, Lady Rosamund is correct" she reassured and, for some strange reason, it was not only for property that she was fine with being called with her first name. "After all, after the long talk of last week, I think we have a certain confidance in any case!"

She let out a chuckle at her own comment and Richard chuckled along with her, even if they both were unavoidably a bit embarassed remembering the exact recent circumstance.

"What are you doing here in London, anyway?"

"Just a meeting with some colleagues…"

"I see." She nodded and then looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess you already have plans for dinner, but if you don't, let me invite you"

He was taken aback by that and didn't even try to hide it. "I-I don't have any plans actually, but I don't think it would be appropriate"

"Why not? It will be just the two of us" she replied, trying to reassure him again but immediately widening her eyes herself, realizing how her words had come out. "I mean, there are no other guests, it will be something informal… And besides, you told me that you don't like having dinner alone"

The doctor frowned, but soon a smirk appeared on his lips. "Oh, did I?"

He wondered how many things he had let slip about himself in just a couple of hours with that lady.

And then he also wondered how many more things he would have let slip that very evening.

 **4.**

Rosamund had not lied: the evening was informal, at least apart from the magnificence of the place and the not so friendly attitude of the butler. Luckily for him, he was used to both; what he wasn't used at all though, was to find in a lady apparently so different from him such an alike soul. For instance since the very start, as he was led into her huge living room and took place at the likewise huge table, he realized that that invitation had been made out of need of company and he welcomed that thought with a strange relief, not helping but relating to the feeling.

"So, what important medical news have you came to known today?" she asked at some point, in the gap between the first and the second course.

"Oh, I don't want to bother you – unless you are really interested in it"

And he actually believed that for a moment, because they weren't lacking of topics and therefore, he could be quite positive that the question hadn't been made out of simple politeness.

"Well, not really. I don't have any medical knowledge and I am not sure I could make a fine bandage for my life" she replied sincerely. "But I am curious about many things and I admire your job"

"You could come to Downton Hospital and take a look yourself then" he suggested, without actually thinking of how much forward that could sound. And he hadn't even touched his wine yet!

Silence fell immediately for the first time as they stared at each other for some seconds with slightly widened eyes, because after all it _did_ sound forward. He opened his mouth with intent to say something to save the situation, but then, before he could even try to take his words back, he saw her nodding with surprising enthusiasm.

 **5.**

Even if the dinner was quite long, Richard pleasantly accepted the lady's invitation to stay a little longer. They moved to the sitting room to share a drink and that was when they engaged a rather strange conversation about different qualities of whiskey.

"I think I must say that I am not an alcoholic addicted" she said, still taking a long sip from her glass though. "It is just that being a widow since a long time and living all alone in this big house, I tend to feel lonely. And you see, when I don't have any guests, I spend the evening reading some novels and then I go to bed with a glass of something strong." She stopped with a sigh that soon turned into a bitter slight chuckle. "Oh, I must sound so pathetic right now, don't I?"

He didn't reply for several moments, once again completely taken by surprise by that wonderful woman. That was exactly how he spent his evenings too, that was exactly how he had described his loneliness to Isobel on one evening that wasn't so different from that one he was living now. Once again he could understand, once again he could relate.

" _Certainly you don't sound pathetic to me"_

* * *

 ***Tiptoes into this little corner* Hello everyone! I guess that some explanations for this story are in order. As some of you already know, I am a Richobel shipper and I still am. However, right after the CS, I felt the need to write some sort of happy ending for Richard too (even without Isobel) and this feeling immediately combined somehow with the desire to see another character I like very much - Rosamund - happy; I realized that, after all, these two could have more things in common than what at first could seem.**

 **I was unsure of how this might have been welcomed, I was unsure of what I was going to do with my basic idea, but in the meanwhile I wrote and I wrote more than I had expected at first. I had fun while writing and soon I found myself with a lot of little Richard/Rosamund moments all set in the Downton Abbey's new year that we didn't get the chance to see. With the encouragement of some friends (one of them helped me to decide the title and another one encouraged me to publish the cover image even if it is badly made), I decided to post it and I hope you like it as well - or at least have some curiosity to read more:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **March 1926**

 **6.**

Doctor Clarkson was delighted that at least one thing he had predicted about Lady Rosamund Painswick was correct. Her curiousity might have been the greatest of all, but when, under her own insistence, he had led her to see a particular patient, she had the same reactions that most ladies were expected to have: almost faint at the sight of blood.

"Are you feeling better, Lady Rosamund?" he asked, not hiding an amused little smile. He offered her a cup of tea and his expression became a more indulgent one. "I told you that you might not have been prepared"

She accepted the tea but did not spare a proud glare at him. "If my mother or Cora can be the chairman of the board, I can't see why for me it must be any different"

An open incredulous chuckle escaped now from the doctor's mouth. "Do you actually think that one of the two Lady Granthams had ever came any close to a patient in those conditions?"

At that very welcomed piece of information, she conceded him a smile and then hid her face into the cup. "Well, at least I have confirmed something that I already knew. I am not the _nurse type_ " she considered aloud then, almost with a snobbish trace in the voice.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly disapproving her tone but still somehow amused. And, unavoidably, that was the moment when he unawarily started to make _comparisons_.

 **7.**

Lady Rosamund was beautiful.

The refined clothes, the elegant moves, the gracious features and her quick remarks: everything was becoming more and more familiar to him. He was finding himself not just looking _at_ those particulars, but actually looking _for_ them. She was truly beautiful, undoubtly outside and surprisingly inside, and he couldn't help but wonder to himself why such a wonderful woman could be alone. The only reasonable explanation would be by choice, but yet she had made clear to him that she would give up loneliness at the first chance. Trying to figure that out was his current secret dilemma: which man could not be enchanted by her beauty? Which man could not find her anything but lovely? Which man could ever decide to reject her and leave her alone?

 _He_ certainly wouldn't – but that was a solution he wasn't willing to even consider.

 **8.**

Doctor Clarkson was handsome.

That was the first thing that she noticed when she spotted him outside the Church and maybe the reason why she decided to approach him in the first place. His fit figure, the fair hair – blue eyes combination typical of the ideal Prince Charming and then there was his attractive scottish accent. However, it was only when she started to talk to him and discovered how wonderful his soul was too, that she officially decided that Isobel Crawley Grey was out of her mind. In fact, which woman could refuse a love like the one he seemed so eager to give? Which woman could not want to have a man like that by her side? Which woman could ever prefer someone dull as Lord Merton over him? Of course, he could have had money or a title, but those kind of things could also mean very little after all.

 _To her_ they could be even irrelevant – but that was a consideration she didn't feel entitled to make.

 **9.**

"Oh, Rosamund, why on Earth have you decided to take a visit to the hospital?"

The old Lady Violet moved her questioning eyes from her son who had delivered the news to her daughter who was the protagonist of it. She looked clearly shocked and everyone else started tensing already, in anticipation of the little quarrel mother - daughter that was certainly about to start.

"Dear mama, I think I am old enough to go wherever I please without asking" Rosamund soon replied in fact, a bit sharply. "Besides, if Doctor Clarkson is not complaining about my presence, I don't see why you should"

"I don't mind it, I don't mind it at all" Richard replied quickly, maybe a bit _too_ quickly. "As far as I am concerned, you can feel free to visit the hospital whenever you like, Lady Rosamund. Although you certainly are not the _nurse type_ "

Everyone exchanged amused glances and couldn't help but smile at that last addition of the doctor. Richard and Rosamund smiled as well, but the smile had a far different meaning on their lips. Across the round table of the Abbey, their eyes locked for a moment and that look was the holder of a joke only they could understand.

 **10.**

Another drink, another talk. The same place, the same company.

As much as that change of plans proved to be good in the end, if it hadn't been for Edith's fainting, she would have returned to London in the afternoon and, obviously, Richard wouldn't have had any reason to come at all and even less to stay for dinner. But then, Edith's official first pregnancy was announced and celebrations were to be done.

"I really meant it before, you are still welcomed at the hospital"

She smiled at herself and slightly shook her head, unconvinced. "To see badly injured patients and upset myself? I said that I appreciate you work, I really do, but I willingly leave it to you!"

"Of course not… Maybe – maybe you could pass by for a talk, when you are in visit in Downton"

She was taken aback, as it often happened when the doctor was involved – she noted. And she noted also the little hesitation in his voice as well as his fleeting look. It must have been rather difficult for him to speak that openly, but luckily for him she was going to make things easier.

"In this case, the offer certainly sounds more appealing" she answered in fact, gently. "I could use a _friend_ , actually"

Richard raised his eyebrows for the unexpected use of words. He found himself smiling warmly and even gratefully, but he didn't say anything aloud and actually remained silent for a short while.

"I think I must go now. I am monopolising your attention, Lady Rosamund"

"Don't worry about it, it is not like anyone is compiting for that, anyway"

Recalled back by that bitter answer, he stopped his intent to leave abruptly. As he watched her fierce and apparently so composed face, he couldn't help but feel a rush of sadness running over him.

And this time, for the first time, it wasn't because he felt his own pain while relating to her, but because he could actually feel _her_ pain.

* * *

 **Here it is part 2, I can tell now that it will be about 7/8 parts. I really want to thank you for the wonderful reviews, I didn't expect that the idea of this pairing could receive such a welcome, you encouraged me to continue! I would love to know what you think about this chapter as well. In the meanwhile, see you soon with part 3 - which will be focused on a certain annual cricket match;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **Summer 1926**

 **11.**

Doctor Clarkson hated birthdays, or if not actually hated them, he certainly wasn't fond of them. One year older, one year lonelier. He had stopped celebrating probably since he had turned about thrirty, he would have liked to think that he had lost count since then, but sadly that would have been a lie. There were the letters – and now phone calls – from his sister in Scotland and some wishes from the few people who knew in Downton to remember him of the fact, anyway. And that year in particular, there was a rather expensive bottle of whiskey waiting for him on his desk.

"Nurse Joan, who left this?" he asked in clearly curiosity, as the young nurse entered providentially his office.

"I did, actually. Lady Rosamund left it for you on her last visit and she made me promise to give it to you today"

He looked evidently astonished and only was able to nod in order to dismiss the woman and be left once again alone. Slowly and with a growing realization, he took the bottle in his hands and turned it as to better study that rare sincere gift he was receiving. It was then that he noticed a card stuk to the bottle, written in a handwriting he had never seen before but yet was somehow already familiar.

 _Don't drink it all alone. Happy birthday, Doctor._

A slight chuckle escaped his lips at that and he unusually continued to smile for all day.

 **12.**

"You absolutely must come next week!" Edith exclaimed, speaking to her aunt, but actually looking at her suddenly unsure husband.

The curiousity radar was activated and Rosamund couldn't help but inquire more. "What's happening next week?"

"Downton's annual cricket match…" Bertie replied with a resigned sigh. "Robert basically forced me to join the team"

"Oh, I bet he did" she commented showing a knowing smile. She was well aware of her brother's persuasion ability and now she guessed that his attempts were even greater, since the Abbey had lost some male members of the staff.

"And you can't miss Henry playing his first match as well" Mary spoke up from the opposite couch, giving an amused glanced at her own equally worried husband, who was sitting at her side.

"Well, I can't say I'm not intrigued now, but I don't know if I'll be able to come again and…"

"Oh but Rosamund, most of all you can't miss Robert arguing with Doctor Clarkson after the match!" And that was Cora, joining the small group with a soft chuckle.

Lady Painswick fell silent immediately at that last comment and the intent of denying the invitation was suddenly completely abandoned.

Doctor Clarkson playing cricket? Oh, that was something she _definetly_ couldn't miss.

 **13.**

It was a sunny and warm afternoon when the famous cricket match took place, but the kind weather wasn't making any particular favour, not to Lord Grantham anyway. In spite of his usual efforts to organize a valid team, they were down by many points. Like Mary and Edith had jokingly implied, Henry and Bertie were not proving to be very good at playing and like Cora had predicted, Robert was already totally animated against the leader of the village team, the very Richard Clarkson.

In fact, at five minutes to the end, the doctor brilliantly scored once again, proclaiming in fact the end of the match. While most of the ladies sighed in displeasure, Rosamund made an unwilling little jump on her chair, as her hands went automatically to join into a single enthusiastic clap.

"Oh, what a traitor you are, aunt Rosamund! Aren't you supposed to cheer for the Abbey?" Mary teased amusingly, even if her voice there was a trace of real puzzlement.

Rosamund just smiled enigmatically and kept looking at the pitch. Everyone was cheering for their men, and she was doing exactly the same after all.

 **14.**

At the end of the match, everyone was invited at the Abbey to celebrate – even if the actual hosts had hoped for a different result. As for Doctor Clarkson, he was celebrating indeed and had one more reason to do so after Lady Rosamund had approach him to express her congratulations. He accepted her kind words with a somewhat embarassed smile and engaging a casual conversation, which was as always so easy to make between them. He omitted to say though that it was thanks to her if he had been so successfull that year at all, since he had discovered that having a supporter or actually someone to impress was a strong encouragement.

All around in the big hall, most of the people were dancing – losers and victors, members of the family and villagers – usually in marital couples, like Edith and Bertie, but also trying new unusual pairs giving the occasion, like for example Mary and the young librarian Edward Lowe. And it was exactly that last combination to attract Rosamund's attention.

"What a beautiful sight to see the most beautiful woman in the room and the cricket champion dancing, don't you think?" she asked, getting a bit absorbed into the secret daydream of being the protagonist of such a scene herself.

But Richard didn't support her opinion and instead pursed his lips and looked down thoughtfully for a single moment, as he always did when he was about to say something quite risky. It was not the first time that she saw that expression on his face and so she knew what she had to do: waiting for him to decide the next step, whether it was remaining silent or giving his currently dangerous thought a try. Surprisingly, he chose for the latter, as he turned to look at her with a slight unexpected hint of mischievousness in his eyes.

"Actually, I don't know what you are talking about, Lady Rosamund, since we – _you and I_ – are not dancing"

 **15.**

It was not long before they were joining the other dancers too. Hand in hand, bodies almost pressed one against the other and eyes locked at a new rare promiximity. All he knew was that he couldn't leave such a lovely woman in one corner of the room and all she knew was that she did really want to dance a bit after all. However, probably none of them had actually thought of the possible effect of that somehow more intimate contact, but now they were both feeling that very effect indeed. Racing pulse, dry throat and butterflies in the stomach: could they be the symptoms of happiness?

"I still can't believe how she chose him over you" she said suddenly in a whisper, her eyes fixed on a point behind his back. "But, after all, I can't say anything since I am rather biased on this topic"

Richard didn't need to turn around: he had already spotted minutes before Lord and Lady Merton happily dancing together and he had decided that that sight was enough for him. Actually, it wasn't a difficult decision to make, since he found himself strangely not caring at all for the very first time.

"Of course you are biased, you never liked Lord Merton at all" he whispered back teasingly, trying to down play the situation, or at least the approach she seemed to have to it.

But she remained serious as she merely gave him a long hesitating look. This time it was her turn to say something risky.

"I believe I am biased because I've grown to _like you_ "

* * *

 **I decided to make their story evolve gradually, so I let some time "silently" pass between the previous chapter and this one. However, if you think things are moving slowly, then I let you know that they are going to happen very fast - maybe too fast - in next chapter. Somehow I'm becoming fonder and fonder of these two together and so I'm really glad to receive your wonderful reviews. Thank you so much again, I hope to still have your support!:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **September 1926**

 **16.**

If he had been asked to say which was the very moment he had stopped loving Isobel Crawley and started falling in love with Rosamund Painswick, he wouln't have known how to answer. It had happened gradually, he supposed, somewhere between their whole-hearted talks and their subtle and casual way of constantly looking for each other's company. He loved her, he was sure of that now, but could it be possible that she felt the same? She called him _friend_ , she said that she _liked_ him, but she never actually hinted that she liked him _that way_. After all, why such a noble and elegant woman like her should even look twice at a common country doctor like him in the first place?

He had been there before: playing the part of the friend, being closer to a woman he couldn't actually reach, feeling alive again but only in false hope. It was just that this time he feared he wouldn't have been able to survive another unavoidable disappointment. It was hard trying to keep the balance between his feelings especially in particular moments, like for example that very one: she was in front of him almost in tears after a snarky comment from Lady Violet about her first late husband, and he couldn't do anything to comfort her.

Basically, he had the duty to listen to her, but not the right to hold her.

"You never loved anyone else after Mr Painswick?" he asked, not knowing himself which purpose he wanted to reach with that question.

Rosamund didn't even pretend to think, as she quickly shook her head and pronounced an unmistakable "no".

But right after saying the word that could destroy him, she said the words that immediately brought him back on his false hopes.

" _Not until recently, at least"_

 **17.**

It wasn't a tear but a smile to make the lines between them be crossed in the end. Or actually, it was a fresh laugh during the account of how she had taken a little verbal revenge on her mother. The reason of the laugh itself didn't matter anyway, but what mattered was that it brought them closer – emotionally and phisically. One moment they were laughing and the next one he was placing his lips on hers and she was kissing him back, and it felt for both as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

When they broke apart for mere need of air, their eyes met and for a moment astonishment was the only thing that could be read in that look. She didn't know that he had it in him, she didn't know that she had it in herself; as for him, he didn't know that there could be that for them.

He opened his mouth and started to say something, probably heading to an apologize he didn't really feel but felt obliged to make. She didn't give him the chance to reach that point though, as she just reduced their distance once again and wrapped her arms around his neck. After a first moment of surprise, he held her as well, as they both remained for a while in silence just enjoying that rather rare intimate contact in their lives.

 **18.**

"Will you marry me?"

Richard stared at her as if she had suddenly gone mad, which could be the only explanation in his opinion for why she was making such a proposal. But Rosamund was not mad, not at all, and she was looking back at him with a quite lucid expression instead.

She knew that he would have probably never asked her and she also knew that she didn't want to wait forever. Not now that she had learnt what she wanted, not now that the kiss had given her the hope that he wanted the same thing too. So she asked, plainly as it was and without any particular eloquency; she was sure that he wouldn't have minded anyway.

"I don't think you actually know what you are asking…" he muttered after some moments of heavy silence, still unable to see that situation as anything but pure madness.

"I think I do or I wouldn't ask at all" she retorted quickly, her pretended proud composure untouched.

"But you can't possibly want to marry me… I couldn't provide you of the kind of life you have and besides, I think I am too old for that now"

Although she had considered the chance of a rejection, the poor excuse he had just used made her feel more irritated and hurt than expected. "But you were not too old to marry Isobel Crawley, weren't you?" she pointed out with greeted teeth.

"This is exactly the point, don't you see, _Rosamund_?" he sighed, tiredly, calling her for the first time without the title. "I already fell in love with a woman above my station once, but I fear that this time I exagerrated."

"Exagerrated in the falling in love or in the difference of the station?"

He hesitated to answer that rather forward question, but still maybe not as much as he should have.

" _Both_ "

 **19.**

Edith had never seen her dear aunt look so glowing as she had in the last few months, which was the reason why she noted immediately the strangely bad mood she saw instead on their last meeting in London. There had been something new and fleeting in her behavior, a certain glimpse in the eyes which was impossible not to wonder about, but now her face was suddenly lifeless once again.

The young woman of course didn't know what had happened, but according to those simple details, she was positive to say that _something_ had happened indeed and then ended, leaving her obviously blue. She didn't even know if there was a man behind that double change, but yet when she finally decided to inquire about it, somehow gave it for granted. After all, what else can make you so happy or so miserable as love does?

"Did he make you so suffer? Maybe he was not right for you"

Rosamund didn't even pretend ignorance and just put her tea cup down, with a deep sigh. "He was _the_ right one… But you are right on one thing my dear, he did make me suffer." She paused, looking thoughtful suddenly, until she hinted a bitter smile. "It's funny if I think about my two latest possible relationships, though. One could happen only because of my money and this one for the exact reason can't happen instead"

Edith didn't reply and just took her hands in hers own as attempt to offer some comfort. Like her aunt had done when she was the one in trouble, she would be now there for her – and also, try to help if there was an actual chance to do that.

 **20.**

"I am worried about your sister, Robert"

Lord Grantham looked up abruptly from the letter he was reading and payed actual attention to her mother for the first time since she had showed up at the Abbey. _Worried_ , she had used exactly the word worried, not disappointed, angry or disapproved; she said that she was worried and she defintely looked like it.

"What has she done this time?" he inquired, frowing a little.

"She has been visited Downton too many times during this whole year and she had suddenly stopped to come at all since two weeks ago. It's rather odd…"

"Well, like Rosamund would say herself, she is free to do whatever she pleases, mama"

But while Robert was already with his eyes back on his business, the old woman looked still quite thoughtful and, after that remark, even a bit annoyed.

"She is visiting most of the times the hospital. Either she is ill or she wants to become a nurse, I think that it is something we should _all_ worry about" she replied, hiding with her subtle irony the actual concern she was feeling for her daughter.

The man looked up again a bit more interested now, but he wasn't the one to speak. In fact, Edith, who was talking in the meanwhile with Tom but was also following the other conversation in the room, suddenly looked at her granny with widened eyes. For Violet, there was no other possible explanation apart from those two extremes, but for her who knew something more, it wasn't difficult to do the math at that point. She smiled widely at herself, feeling more delighted than expected at the surprising solution of the riddle.

A mysterious man, the changes of mood related to the visits in Downton and the hospital.

"Oh, don't worry granny… I don't think it is _the hospital_ what exactly she is so fond of"

* * *

 **Hello everyone! First of all, thank you for the wonderful (and many) reviews! I am honestly speechless to have received such a good feedback for a story I was even uncertain to publish in the first place. Your support is important and very appreciated!**

 **Then, I think I have to explain a few things about this particular chapter. As some of you had pointed out in the reviews, Richard is quite uncomfortable with the idea of a relationship (considering his character and the difference of station, but also the recent heartbreak with Isobel); that is the reason why I decided to let Rosamund make the first step, since, as she said herself, she is "tired of being alone" and I think she wouldn't mind too much daring to change the situation. Then I also decided to finally put the family into the mix as well, starting with Edith. Anyway, I hope you didn't mind the plot twists and that you will let me know what you think:)**


	5. Chapter 5

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **October 1926**

 **21.**

It wasn't unusual for Doctor Clarkson to see a Crawley woman waiting for him in his office; what was unusual though was that that very Crawley had blonde hair, was visibly pregnant and quite younger than the avarage. Apparently, after Violet, Isobel, Cora and Rosamund, his path was to cross with Edith too and, since she had moved from Downton and he was no longer her doctor, he didn't know what could possibly be the reason of it. But that wasn't something he had to wait too long to see.

"There is something going between you and my aunt, isn't it?" she asked in fact, with a totally unpredictable bluntness coming from her.

He was caught off guard and the way he quickly looked away confirmed his embarassment in facing the topic. His undeniable pain for having lost the woman he had grown to love was temporarily silenced by the satisfaction to see how at least he had saved both of them from an awkward situation. In that very moment, he was glad to be honest in deny their relationship and then, he considered, he was also glad that it was Edith the one that had been sent as ambassador of the family's suspects. If he had to receive any reproachment of any sort, let it be the apparently less dangerous of them to say it.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Lady Edith" he said, hoping that the little hesitation he had didn't betray him. "Lady Rosamund and I have become quite friends, if that is what you are asking, but you don't need to worry, there is nothing else going on…"

"Oh, this is exactly what I'm worrying about" she pointed out though, surprisingly looking sad rather than irritated. "Aunt Rosamund is very gloomy these days, you see, and I think this is somehow related to you and to _whatever_ is actually going on. I care about her and if you do as well, you should do something about it"

He was ready to deny once again and to pretend ignorance, but his new attempt fell when he heard about Rosamund's current mood. Of course he could have predicted it, but somehow in his mind he had thought that she was going to forget it easily and that he was instead the only one to have been drinking too much whiskey in the last two weeks.

"I fear I can't be of any help. I can't give what she asks of me anyway" he finally replied, forced by his own feelings to be sincere.

"Why not? Because of the social difference or because you are afraid of what people might say?"

"Maybe I'm just afraid of everything. In my life I had to endure enough rejections and I'm not strong enough to face a last one"

He wanted to close the matter as soon as possible and he didn't care about being judged coward or insentive. But Edith just shook her head and gave him an empathic smile.

"But don't you see, Doctor Clarkson? She is not rejecting you. _You are rejecting her_."

 **22.**

He was rejecting her, not the other way around: that was the awareness he finally decided to embrace after the meeting with Lady Edith. He found that he didn't need anything else to risk a bit his only apparently peaceful and definetly too lonely life and catch the first train to London. He showed up at 35 Belgrave Square at ten in the morning and was luckily soon introduced into her sitting room. She did look predictably crossed at him, but the little smile that appeared on her face in the moment she saw him, gave him a sparkle of hope.

This time he needed to speak and he needed to be clear, or else he would have lost once again the woman he was in love with. And he couldn't lose the chance of love again, he couldn't lose _her._

However, unluckily for him, his attempt was still too weak and soon slipped into an argument somehow.

"Do you honestly think that I do care about these things?"

"Of course you do. You are living into this big luxurious house and in this bright busy city and…"

"And where did all of this lead me? Don't you understand that all of this doesn't mean nothing if I do not feel happy?"

Her eyes were pleading and her words were almost reaching that point too, but it was only when he noticed actual tears forming in her blue eyes that he found himself completely giving up. He had already discovered that he couldn't bear the sight of seeing her cry and now he was discovering that the feeling could be worsened by the awareness that he was the reason behind it. After all, he had already made a decision and he certainly hadn't come all the way from Downton to argue with her.

"And would I give you that? Do you really think that I could make you happy?"

"I do" she said without hesitation.

That was enough to let Richard come closer and gently grab her upper arms, to make her look at him.

That was enough to let him dare and whisper the unhoped words "I love you" for the first time in his whole life.

That was enough to let him take her left hand in his one and make something appear on her finger. A golden ring with a certain gaelic etching.

 **23.**

Lady Rosamund Painswick was not a forward woman and never have been in her whole life. But yet, if she thought more about the course of her relationship with Doctor Clarkson, she had been the one to invite him over dinner the first time, the first to actual give a sort of present and even the one that made the proposal. No, she wasn't usually forward at all, but the point was that she wasn't coward either.

Besides, she was finding out that she didn't mind her supposed forwardness that much. Not when she was feeling alive again for the first time since Marmaduke's death, not when there was the prospect of a happy ending for herself too, not when she was walking in the streets arm in arm with Richard and with a sincere smile on her face.

More people than expected were looking at her and it wouldn't have taken much to discover who the man in her company was. A country doctor and the earl of Downton's sister: there was going to be gossip about it, but she wouldn't have given more than an ironical laugh at it. Once again, she didn't care at all, maybe she didn't even mind to have a little bit of spotlight on herself, after all. Let them see, let them talk; in spite of her own previous snobbish way of thinking, she got nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of.

Because she had a ring on her finger and she was in love.

 **24.**

" _Richard_ , are you alright?"

He looked away from the window pane of the moving train and landed his eyes on the woman's slightly worried ones. Thanks to her recall he had been awakened by his thoughts, but it was exactly that recall to let him nearly get lost into another reverie: how could it be any different when he was hearing his first name coming from her lips? He would have never get used to that, he _already_ was.

"I'm fine" he managed to say eventually. "I was just thinking about what we are going to do when we arrive… Are you still certain that you want to tell your family?"

"Or else what would you suggest? A romantic elope to the Highlands?"

She let out an ironic little chuckle and he soon did the same, because they both knew that she wasn't surely _that_ forward to just do that.

"What I mean is that we should consider things well. I would be terribly sorry to cause Lady Violet a heart attack"

"Why not? You will have to heal her then and maybe that is exactly how you are going to win her heart"

Richard casted her a playfully reproachful glare and Rosamund replied with an innocent glance of her own, but that was simply how the matter was dropped for some seconds.

"At least we have Lady Edith on our side" he soon spoke up again, though.

"Edith?"

He smiled enigmatically at her curiousity and decided to keep his secret for a little longer.

After all, she had all the rest of the travel together to try and find out. _All the rest of the life together_.

 **25.**

Rosamund looked too cheerful to be ill – unless it was a mental illness, of course. That was what was going on on Violet's mind as she saw the unusual pairing of her daughter and Doctor Clarkson entering together her parlour, because honestly she didn't know what else think of it. The thought of the link between Rosamund and the hospital had given her no other clues after all: either she was ill or…

"Doctor, are you here to tell me that you are going to take my daughter as one of your nurses?"

She let out the words with a certain ill-concealed disapprovation, but that was a feeling she soon regretted. In fact, as she attended widened eyes the two guests looking complicitly at each other and then the man surprisingly take Rosamund's hand in his own, the disdain soon turned into pure horror. She was realizing only now that there was a third option after all, and that that her worry should have been on a totally different level.

"No, Lady Grantham. As far as it may sounds absurd to you, I intent to take her as my _wife_ "

* * *

 **Once again, thanks to everyone for still following and reviewing the story - especially to the guests because I can't properly reply to them. I hope that with this chapter I made it up for the sadness in the previous chapter; I know that things were maybe too rushed compared to the slow timing so far, but I couldn't wait to see them together! There is still more to see though, like some reactions to the unexpected engagement and the wedding. So, see you soon:)**


	6. Chapter 6

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **October/November 1926**

 **26.**

"You can't even possibly think of marrying him!"

To say that the old Lady Grantham wasn't thrilled about the prospect of having Doctor Clarkson as _son-in-law_ was a big euphemism. Rosamund had not expected to hear different words as soon as the two women remained alone, but right because she was expecting a fight, she was also prepared to fight back. It wasn't the first time at all that she had to face her mother's disapproval, but this time she wasn't a young girl and, besides, she knew something very well: it wasn't Violet's place to like whatever man in question, instead that was her own prerogative and only hers.

"I thought you liked him" she just replied, trying to mantain her calm composure.

"Yes, I did, _for Isobel_! Not for you, Rosamund… Oh for Heaven's sake, I never even thought about it"

"Well, you must think of that now! Or maybe you think that Richard is after my fortune…"

Violet didn't hide her slight discomfort in hearing the doctor's first name, but didn't let that detail attract too much her attention. "Of course I don't think that of _Doctor Clarkson_ " she was forced to agree instead. "But he's just a country doctor, he's older than you and… He's even Scottish!"

"What on Earth does the fact that he's Scottish mean now?" Rosamund quickly objected, letting her growing irritation show at that point. "You could accept Tom into the family, you could accept Marigold, but yet you can't accept me marrying a respectable doctor! Why can't you be happy that I finally found someone to love too?"

Something in that speech made Violet stop whatever objection she was going to make, something in her daughter's look made her own face change into a softer expression.

"Do you really love him?"

"I do" Rosamund replied with no hesitation. And it was the first time she was saying it aloud.

 **27.**

Richard never forgot who Rosamund was of course; on the contrary, that was the very reason why he had tried hard not to develop deeper feelings for her or why he had refused at first the idea of a marriage. However, he actually realized who her mother was and who her brother was only when he found himself with the unescapable duty to face them.

"I never expected something like this… I honestly don't know what to say, Doctor Clarkson" a rather incredulous earl Gratham was saying during the meeting he himself had been the one to request. "What I can't understand is why this is happening in the very first place"

"Lord Grantham, I can assure you that what I have for your sisters only the deepest and most sincere feelings, or else I wouldn't be here at all" Richard said calmly, despite he was repeating the same concept for at least the third time. "I always had a simple life and I don't need money or properties to feel more complete and if you are implying that-"

"I am not implying anything of the sort" Robert assured, although the confusion seemed to grow on his face. "So, you are saying that the only reason why you want to marry Rosamund is that you think she can make you happy?"

The doctor considered the question for a moment and then unexpectedly shook his head.

"Of course I'm sure she will make me happy, but the only reason I actually decided to marry her is that she seems so sure that I will make _her_ happy"

The earl's puzzlement wasn't gone, but however, he decided that he liked that answer enough.

 **28.**

"I heard about your engagement with Cousin Rosamund. Well, congratulations are in order then!"

 _News travel fast_ \- Richard thought as he smiled politely at the former Mrs Crawley. Honestly, he had expected things to be a little more awkward between them, but yet he wasn't feeling embarassed as he probably should have. His love for her hadn't disappeared completely of course, but it was like in those months it had reduced into just a slight trace of distant melancholy.

Actually, if things were proving to be difficult, it was only on Isobel's side. For the first time since a long time, she was really _seeing_ him and in her eyes there was undeniably a more strong and vivid feeling – a feeling she felt suddenly the need to give voice to.

"Do you ever-" she started in fact with a bit of hesitation, before their ways could part. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if things went differently between us, if well…"

She never finished the sentence, but she didn't need to. After all, that question she was probably formulating for the very first time was the very same question he had been asking himself since the day Dickie Merton had come into the picture.

"I often did, _Lady Merton_ " he replied, stressing eloquently her new title. His face soon relaxed thought and a new more sincere smile crossed his lips. "But I honestly don't anymore"

 **29.**

Actually, he still wondered about what ifs sometimes, but the point was that now he did prefer the concrete reality anyway.

That was the conclusion Richard had achieved while he watched, with an unusual stupid smile on his face, Rosamund walking to him in London Register Office. They couldn't get married in Church because of their different beliefs and this was just one of the aspects that made their wedding a quite quiet one; they didn't really need a big ceremony, since they didn't want to waste any precious time to have their happy ending. Richard's best – and only – friend as bestman, a few nurses from Downton hospital and the Crawley family were the only witnesses of the function, but they didn't have anything to complain about. In her magnificent light blue dress, she looked like a queen, _his_ queen, and that was the only thing they both truly needed in that moment.

"I do" – and there was a trace of nervousness.

"I do" – but no uncertainty.

When the officer asked, everyone held their peace – including a still slightly disapproving Robert Crawley, and when they were proclaimed man and wife, everyone looked a bit touched – especially the apparently strict Lady Violet.

They kissed and in that kiss they both smiled, because they knew the true implied meaning.

 _Lady Rosamund Clarkson was no longer Lady Rosamund Painswick and each of them was no longer alone._

 **30.**

That light blue dress was beautiful indeed, but he soon discovered that he did like what was underneath it even more. It was so easy to tell by the intense but yet almost afraid stare he gave her as she gracefully sat on their bed – and that was a sort of timid wonder that was on her same face as well. Neither of them spoke for several moments, just studying each other's body only through their own blue eyes.

"I am a bit nervous" she admitted at some point, uncharacteristically biting her lower lips and matching with her action the meaning of her words.

Richard slowly approached her at that, but he still did nothing else but staring at her. He didn't tell her that everything was perfect or that there was no need to have fears, because he was feeling the same and he had never been fond of lies after all. He didn't offer any actual comfort, he only offered honesty.

"So am I, my darling, so am I"

In spite of their age and their knowledge about things in life, they both looked like two naive first loves, but they had nothing to be reproached about. It had been so long since he had even touched a woman in that way and it had been so long since she had been touched by a man; it had been _too_ long and now they didn't know if their mutual longing risked not to be enough, or on the contrary too much.

But as Richard started to tenderly kiss her neck and then Rosamund started to free him of his clothes, they both naturally realized that there was something aside from the escape from loneliness and beyond love, and that something was exactly that so feared longing.

They were soon caught in the midst of a gradual passion and the fear of not being enough only became the fear of not _giving_ enough.

* * *

 **Yay, they are finally happily married and also, the family accepted the fact! Now, there are two chapters left with some kinda sweet moments, starting with the honeymoon. As always, thank you for the lovely feedback and the important support; I hope you'll stay with me until the end of this story:)**


	7. Chapter 7

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **Novemeber/December 1926**

 **31.**

It was only when she stepped out of the car and actually touched the ground, that Rosamund realized that Scotland meant more than colourful tartan and quite tasty scotch. Of course, it wasn't the first time she crossed England's northern border, but on the other hand, the sight she had as her cousin Susan's guest was very different from the one she was having now.

It was only when she was stepped into a small house of a very small village, that she started to regret her own choice for their honeymoon. She had wanted to meet what was left of his family and the places where he had lived in his youth, but now for the first time she was realizing that, besides their many things in common, there was also an essential difference between her and her husband.

It was only when she was welcomed by an unexpected warm embrace by his sister, that she started to dislike the atmosphere. Because it was too peaceful and too comfortable and too lovely: all things that had little to do with Scotland itself after all, but that led to reconsider all those years – all her life – where such a naturalness and such a free affection was missing.

But then, he held her hand, their gazes met for a short while and somehow she started to feel that now she belonged a little.

 **32.**

A cascade of weavy red hair half covering a green and black tartan scarf: that was the first thing that caught Richard's attention as he entered into the bedroom. Rosamund had retired some minutes before and now she was just sitting in front of the window, apparently watching the cold darkness outside.

"I'm sorry that you don't like here" he spoke softly, closing the door behind and leaving _his_ world outside of _their_ world for the night.

She turned her head quickly, surprised more by his words than by his presence. "That's not true" she tried to object, weakly. "I mean, the place is wonderful, your family is nice and... This scarf is-"

"You hate that scarf, Ros" he interrupted her, approaching her slowly, while trying hard not to show an amusing smile. "You can tell me, I promise I won't tell Kirsten"

"It is awful, really" she admitted, surispingly quickly. But the flash of frustration on her face soon faded into a playful smirk, as she removed the very scarf from her neck and put it on his neck instead. "But it doesn't really matter, because it was made for me but it can be yours too" she added then, widening her smirk and pointing at two embroidered letters on one corner of the cloth.

 _R.C. Rosamund Clarkson. Richard Clarkson._

 **33.**

"You can look now"

It wasn't hard for Rosamund to admit that she was hating the scarf a little bit more now that she was having it wrapped around her head as blindfold. However, aside from the unexpected use of the cloth, she found the real surprise waiting for her once she uncovered her eyes. At least ten men of different ages were standing at one side of a big hall, all wearing traditional kilts and carrying one bagpipe each.

"What does it mean? Have you called the entire band of the village?" she asked ironically, moving her questioning eyes from the many men to the single one.

"They are just old friends and they are here as a sort of wedding gift for me, us…" Richard simply replied, shrugging slightly. "And there isn't exactly a band in the village if you care to know, every male in the village is supposed to learn to play a bagpipe since they are just a little more than children and so…"

" _Every_ male?" she echoed him immediately, while a playful smirk went forming on her lips. "This mean that _you_ can play a bagpipe as well!"

He rolled his eyes at his own inattention in speaking and, in spite of her amused curiosity, he was quick to prevent her from asking him to play by making an equally interesting offer.

"No, I'm not going to play, Ros, _ever_ … Too bad that I am already going to teach you all the Scottish dances I know and dance with you for the rest of the evening"

She raised both her eyebrows, looking almost even more surprised by that prospect. Somehow the idea of seeing him willingly dancing even in front of his friends sounded even more odd than the idea of obliging him to play a bagpipe. And yet, there was no time for her to consider the odds, as the music started at his sign and the next moment he was right in front of her, offering her his hand to take.

"You hate to dance" she pointed out with a trace of uncertainty, still taking his hand though.

"I do, but you love it" he replied as if that explanation could be enough – and certainly it was enough for him. "And besides, it's not the first time I'm doing it for you, isn't it?"

 **34.**

They could have chosen to get married when the weather was kinder or at least chose a warmer destination for the honeymoon, such as South Italy or Spain; instead, they had decided to spend to weeks in Scotland in Decemeber and now they were paying the price for that. Or actually she was, and he was just stubbornly refusing to leave her alone.

"It's just a banal fever, Richard, really" she sighed, repeating in vain the same thing for the unteempth time during three hours. "There is no need for you to be constantly at my side. You should spend time with your family now that you have the chance to do that… Especially because I don't plan we will come here anytime soon!"

He conceded her a smile for her irony, but that wasn't a sign of his change of mind. Even thought he stood up from the chair and moved, he didn't head to the door as she was asking, but instead it was just to come closer to the bed. He sat right beside her and silently placed a kiss on her forehead to check the temperature, only to make appear a disapproving look on his face.

"You are my family now, Rosamund" he just said, as his face clearly softened. "Besides, you might not be the nurse type, but luckily for you, I can assure you that I am exactly the _doctor type_ "

And the _husband type_ as well.

 **35.**

Spending two weeks in Scotland couldn't compare with spending the rest of the years to come in London, but yet, unlike Rosamund, Richard didn't seem to mind. He had willingly given up the peace of his life in Downton, finally retired from his beloved job and simply said goodbye to what had been his life until 1926. He was ready to live into a big house and into a big city and all of that because of her. He had promised her family – and first of all himself – that he would have done everything to make her happy and he knew very well that a woman like her would have never fully been happy just living the life of a country doctor wife; so, if there was the chance not to let her give up her life style, why shouldn't have she taken it?

Wealthy and luxury meant for him sacrifice, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

"Are you sure you are not going to miss home?" she asked, as she caught him staring out the window with a thoughtful expression.

They were again on a train, but this time the destination would have been a final one.

He looked at her and just slowly shook his head. "Downton was never actually my home"

"Of course. Scotland is your home, I know."

She was smiling, certain of her statement, and he just smiled back, letting her believe that she was right. He chose to omit what was really going on inside his mind and which was exactly the correct answer instead.

 _He had never actually felt at home anywhere, but that was just because maybe you can never truly find a home alone._

* * *

 **Hey everyone! I'm sorry for the late update, but I've not been well lately and, also, it's exams period at uni. Anyway, I hope you are still following this story, now that we are so close to the end of it.**

 **I'm not satisfied with this chapter and I'm going to pretend that I've written it while I wasn't fully lucid, but in truth, I just wanted to write some sort of fluffy moments, which still were able to point out their difference though. Despite they both had lonely lives, they were two different types of loneliness and also, having always had different life styles, I guess that their infancy and the relationship with their own family was very different as well. The fact that Richard has a very strong bond with his family and also his hometown is my personal headcanon. That's what I tried to write, I hope to receive some feedback from you - whether good or bad... See you soon with the last chapter:)**


	8. Chapter 8

**More than loneliness and whiskey**

 **December 1926/January 1927**

 **36.**

The amount of the things Richard had to carry from Downton was not much, and the most of it consisted of books. The fact came as no surprise: what was a lonely man supposed to do in his free time after all? Of course he couldn't just drink whiskey all day, could he? However, the problem came when he decided not to be so alone anymore and his own library necessarily met Rosamund's one.

Suprisingly, there were so many books that they could have opened a bookshop and even more surprisingly, there were only few doubles.

She made some amused remarks when noticing the growing stack of his medical journals or his whole collection of Walter Scott's novels; instead, he decided to just smile to himself even when he saw her four – _four!_ – copies of Alice in Wonderland… At least until he came across something which was even more astonishing than that.

"What is it?" he asked in fact, flipping through the pages of a certain book and frowing a bit more at every page.

She approached him soon curiously, but it took just one look for her to smirk. "That's Giacomo Leopardi, an Italian poet…" she just replied nonchalantly.

"But… But it's in _Italian,_ Rosamund. Do you have it just to have it or you can actually speak-"

" _Ebbene sì, so parlare italiano, mio caro_ " she cut him off, widening her smirk. "And don't look at me that way! Maybe there are still many things you don't know about your wife-"

It was his turn to cut her off, with a gentle kiss and then a sort of proud smile. " _My wife_ "

 **37.**

"So the newly-weds are living in London now, aren't they?" Dickie Grey asked with a kind smile.

Sitting at his left, Isobel seemed to stiffen for a moment, then just kept sipping silently her tea. Apparently, there was a topic the happy and in love Lord and Lady Merton did not agree about, and of course Violet's natural instict couldn't help but inquire further.

"Yes, they are. He has retired but, as far as I got from Rosamund's last call, he is quickly getting used to his new life..." she started to reply in a gentle tone, but soon stopped and just fixed her piercing eyes on her best friend. "What's wrong, Isobel? What is it that you don't agree on?"

The other woman looked up immediately, finally averting her attention from the tea but only to reveal a confused and slightly annoyed face. "Why shouldn't I agree?"

"I don't know. There is always something you don't like of what I say"

Isobel narrowed her eyes for a moment, but then just shrugged deciding to give in. After all, there was something she just couldn't bear of the whole matter, or actually, something that she couldn't understand.

"I just never imagined Doctor Clarkson not working anymore and living a quiet marital life with someone of a higher station than him!"

"Oh, that's funny!" Violet quickly replied and the spontaneous smirk that appeared on her lips confirmed her words. She glanced at Dickie, then at the cups of tea and then back at Isobel. "One could have said the very same thing about you, you know?"

 **38.**

During the Christmas holidays, there was a little argument for the so called newly-weds, even if it was actually a pretty useless and pointless one. Because they both didn't want to do a certain thing, but they ended up doing just that: accepting Cora's invitation to spend the New Year's Eve at Downton. Richard felt of course still uncomfortable in his new kind of relationship with the Crawleys, and for Rosamund it was a matter of preference; after so many years surrounded by her closest relatives in the attempt to mitigate her own loneliness, would it be so bad to be a bit alone when she was not so alone anymore?

But they were already at Downton for Christmas day and so the decision was made before they could actually do something about it. Besides, everyone seemed strangely so eager to have their company. No matter if Mary had a baby girl in July or if Edith had a baby boy just a month before, somehow the Clarksons were still the main attraction of the moment and it was no hard to guess, given the not so subtle looks in their direction.

For once they were at the centre of the general attention. For once they were the one not paying attention.

"Happy new year, darling" And she placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

" _Buon anno nuovo_ " And he said it in Italian, the only three words he knew and learnt specifically to tease her.

1927 promised to be a good year, indeed.

 **39.**

"You are looking at them as if they were two unicorns!"

"An unicorn and a dragon would be a more appropriate paragon, I guess…"

Cora gave Robert one of her playful glares, which he replied with one of his amused little smiles. Then, they both brought their attention back to the couple who chatting by themselves at the opposite side of the room, and remained silent for some moments. Against every odds, they truly looked so happy, so in love and especially so suited for each other.

 _An unicorn and a dragon could be a perfect match, after all._

"You still don't fully approve it, do you?" Cora asked eventually, never being the type to going around in circles.

She casted a look at her husband – something between a warning and a plea of benevolence, likely expecting him mumble once again his reservations on the matter. But instead, Robert just kept smiling in a suddenly enigmatic way.

"Actually, I totally do, once considered an unexpected advantage…"

"And which would that be?"

She was genuinely confused now, even suspicious, while he for the first time seemed to finally have arrived at a certain and also quite satisfying conclusion.

"Well, now that the doctor doesn't live in Downton anymore and is also part of the family… He will play for our cricket team this year!"

 **40.**

Coming back to London felt a bit like coming home for Richard as well. Even if he had been living there only for a couple of weeks, the huge silent rooms were now more familiar and the most familiar of all certainly was the sitting room, where everything between them had actually started just one year before. Skipping dinner and with the luggage still to unpack, they decided to sat there, one in the arms of the other in front of the fireplace. They didn't know they were starting a sort of tradition, a tradition that would have repeated every evening for the rest of their years together, even if not in the same way.

Sometimes they talked.

Sometimes they read.

Sometime they even argued.

Sometimes one of the two – usually Rosamund – ended up falling asleep.

But there was a certain constance, however. Every night they went to bed _together_ and most of the nights, the whiskey was left _untouched_.

 _ **THE END**_

* * *

 **And so this is how the story ends... I say once again how much I've liked to write a happy ending for Rosamund and Richard and I hope you liked to read it as well. I confess that I'm not done with them though, and I still have some other ideas to write about this ship, so maybe I'll show up soon bothering you a bit more ahah:) Anyway, a huge thank you for all the ones who had left me a review and followed me through the story!**


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